


The Consequences of Someone Like Me

by Theshapeoflove



Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Homophobia, How Do I Tag, M/M, showki is platonic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theshapeoflove/pseuds/Theshapeoflove
Summary: Son Hyunwoo is back home with his friends on a college break. That night he visits someone very dear to him, someone he knows in the deepest way, someone he has never met before, and must make a decision. Hyunwoo isn't sure if he is ready, but he knows he never wants to go back to the way things were before.
Relationships: Chae Hyungwon/Lee Minhyuk, Chae Hyungwon/Yoo Kihyun, Son Hyunwoo | Shownu/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	The Consequences of Someone Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I know you're all waiting for the next part of my other showki fic "A Jessica Rabbit moment." College finals were a thing and then my computer crashed for a while. The next chapter for my other fic is almost done! Until then please enjoy this. It's the first angsty fic I've ever written. Any references to names or real life people is not intentional, I just suck at naming people. 
> 
> This isn't explicit showki, they are more platonic here but I wasn't sure how to tag this. Forgive me how do I tag. Someone send help.

His life began in a cemetery. 

The chill of the night air was a welcome respite from the blistering heat of the sun. Above him the stars danced along the night sky, the soft glow of their light leading Hyunwoo past a sea of gravestones. He walked endlessly, farther, and farther still. He clutched roses in his hand, the bright scarlet contrasting starkly with the shadows of the cemetery. Eventually, Hyunwoo reached the grave. Tucked into a far corner, it was dirty and cracked, the grass overgrown. An afterthought. A forgotten shame, hidden away even in death. The state of the grave was borderline disgraceful, as if no one had come to visit in years. That, Hyunwoo thought, was probably true. For a few moments Hyunwoo simply stood there, trying to work up some sort of emotion. Condolences. Words. His tongue felt heavy. The cold seeped into his bones. What does one say to the dead?

“Hello.” A greeting? ‘I’m Hyunwoo.” 

Silence. Not like he expected anything else he thought ruefully. The dead don’t talk, after all. Swallowing heavily, Hyunwoo took a deep breath. He didn’t quite know why he was doing this. But he knew it was something that needed to be done. “Hello, I’m Hyunwoo,” his voice cracked, and Hyunwoo winced in embarrassment. “You probably don’t know me. Actually no, I’m completely sure you don’t know me. I…”

“I have something I want to say to you.” 

Hyunwoo swallowed again, hands fiddling with his cap nervously. His heart beat a staccato rhythm in his chest. He was nervous, although he couldn’t understand why. Blowing out a breath in frustration, he willed himself to start again. “You don’t know me. But I know you. At least, I think I do.” Stopping again, Hyunwoo raked a hand through his midnight tresses. What was he doing? Talking to the grave of a dead man he didn’t even know. Surely, Hyunwoo thought, he must have gone crazy. 

Shaking his head he turned, making his way dack down the path. This was stupid. Why had he even bothered to come here? The night fell silent as he trudged on, away from the grave. He was dead. It didn’t mean anything, not really. It didn’t matter. The wind seemed to hiss its discontent into his ear. But it had to mean something right? So many nights spent with him. Countless hours seeking comfort, hiding his tears between pages. Slowing to a stop, Hyunwoo’s fingers tapped in agitation. It had to mean something. 

Hesitantly Hyunwoo shuffled his way back to the grave. This time however, he sat down before it. The damp earth clung to his jeans, and the air in his lungs felt cold. Hyunwoo could feel his hands trembling as he reached out to place the roses over the gravestone. His fingers smoothed over the petals, a weak attempt to make the now ruined flowers look beautiful once again. Right. Words Hyunwoo, he reminded himself. 

“Hello,” His voice was a quiet murmur “My name is Hyunwoo. And I’m here to say thank you. For saving me.”

The words seemed to disappear into the air, enveloped by the silence. “I’ve known you for so long. Everywhere I go, I see traces of you. Songs you loved to sing, places you visited.” His voice fell away, the sounds seeming to shrivel up into his mouth. But this, he decided, this was important. “When I was sixteen, my family bought the house you used to live in. It wasn’t long before I found out about you.”  
Hyunwoo leaned back on his hands, legs sprawled loosely open. He gazed at the sky, eyes roving the open air, bouncing from star to star. “At first it was just rumors. Ghost stories about the kid who died. I’m not sure if they were trying to scare me, but I guess I was curious. I mean, a ghost? That would explain why dad bought the house so cheap, no one wanted to buy it.” Hyunwoo snorted with a shake of his head. He remembers the scandalized look on his mothers’ face when he had returned home, intent on questioning his father on the house’s history. 

“But even then it really was a beautiful place,” Hyunwoo said wistfully. The beige of the walls was not drab, not when covered in his mothers’ photographs or his posters. The kitchen was small. The whole house had felt small, once he had started growing. The off-white tiles in the bathroom, and the horrendous shade of pink the previous owners had painted to match it. His mother had hated the color from the day they had moved in. The memory of her ranting made a smile tug at his lips. “There was a window,” the raven-haired man said ssoftly, “In my bedroom. Our bedroom,” he amended, “The view of the sun was always so pretty. Sometimes I would just sit there for hours, learning about you. Reading about you.” 

It was easier now. The words no longer felt like lead on his tongue. “When your parents died, some of their stuff got left behind in the house. That’s where I first found out about you…” The dancer trailed off for a moment, unsure of what to say. He had found the collection of newspapers stored away in an old box. Simple and nondescript, pushed to the back of the closet, as if someone wanted to hide it. “I think,” a shuddering breath left plush lips, “I think your mom kept it. The newspapers. There were pictures of you in there too.” Hyunwoo remembers flipping through them. The cheeky grin and upturned eyes seeming to never change no matter how much the boy aged. One photograph struck out to him, the bright grin of a teenage boy with his arms wide open while behind him stood the ocean in a cool, frothy blue. “I think she felt bad. Guilty maybe, for what she had done.”

The silence stretched before them. The world felt quiet. As if somehow, beneath the glow of the moonlight, the entire world was listening. “One day I was bored. I threw this basketball I had and it bounced on the floor. I was sure I had broken it, cause the floorboard came loose. I just about pissed myself because I didn’t want my parents to find out,” unwittingly he laughed, a breathless wheeze, “God you should have seen the look on my face. I was terrified.” 

“That’s when I found your journals,” Hyunwoo sobered as the memories returned. In that moment the floorboard had opened an entirely new world to him, although he hadn’t known it at the time. “I hid them from my parents,”, the brown leather covers had been worn smooth from the heat of Hyunwoo’s hands, he had read them so many times, “I don’t know why. It’s weird but I almost felt like I didn’t want to share you,” Heat rushed to his face, and although Hyunwoo knew no one else was there, his eyes remained on the ground, too afraid to look up. “The poetry, the drawings, everything you created seemed so genuine and heartfelt. I used to look forward to coming home and just, just losing myself in everything you had written.” 

“But my favorite part was always just, learning about you. What you did that day. What was happening in your life.” Hyunwoo shivered as the night air seeped into his bones. It was getting late, he noted. He hadn’t expected to be out so long. “I know that you loved to take photos, and that your dad would complain about how much money you spent developing them. I know you listened to American rock music, and that your mom would secretly buy you some CD’s. I know you liked peach yogurt, and fashion, that learning to cook with your mom was one of your favorite memories of each other.” Hyunwoo could almost picture the boy now, in ripped skinny jeans and chains, a leather jacket or some printed band t-shirt. Dark hair pushed back, bangs hanging in his face with eyes like fire. “I don’t really listen to rock, but I like to think we would have had fun talking about music. Sharing songs and stuff. I like hip pop, RnB music, stuff like that. Maybe I could have taught you how to dance.” Hyunwoo has already imagined it a thousand-times over, a fierce, beautiful boy with eyes like fire standing next to him, whooping as Hyunwoo moved to the beat in his dark printed joggers and backwards cap. What a pair they would have made. 

Hyunwoo shifted nervously, picking at the dirt on his pants. “I learned a lot about you,” He mumbled quietly. Something rolled in the pit of his stomach. “And when I found out that you kissed a boy too, I couldn’t put into words how I felt. Scared? Relieved? I-I couldn’t explain it then. Just knowing that there was someone out there who felt it, the fear and the paranoia. Constantly questioning myself and what I was, how everyone would react.” Hyunwoo chocked out. His face burned, and his lashes became wet with tears. “I was so afraid. So disgusted by what I was. Of what my family would say. My friends. My dad. He was so-so angry with me. God I thought there was something wrong with me. I didn’t like girls but I was supposed to right? That’s what guys did. That’s what he told me.” 

His breathing picked up, heavy gasps falling from his lips. He had never realized what the pressure had done to him, how badly the fear had ruined him.. “My mom told him. She told him and he just kept screaming at me. That it wasn’t normal. That I was a disappointment. And suddenly, everything that I worked for may have been gone. School, jobs, what was I supposed to do? I didn’t want to hide. But-but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” Hyunwoo was crying now. Deep sobs that pulled the grief from his lungs. The raven-haired boy crumbled, burying his face in his hands. His grief seemed endless. No matter how much he tried the tears wouldn’t stop. 

Hyunwoo didn’t know how long he cried. His body seemed infused with the cold now, invading his body, heat pouring out of his skin. He was shaking, the evening mist mingling with his tears. Slowly however, he regained his breath. Rubbing his hand across his face Hyunwoo sighed wearily. His body felt sluggish and he was keenly aware of the dull throbbing within his skull. But the heavy feeling in his chest was gone. It was relieving in a way, to simply let everything out. “It felt like I was alone. Like no one could understand it. Having to constantly be on the lookout for what people would say. Hearing the insults, the jokes, and not saying anything because I didn’t know what could happen to me. What people would do to me. It was just this heavy, constant pressure. And sometimes I almost wished I was straight. That I could pretend so life would be easier, like I could make people love me again. In a way I hated myself. I almost ended up believing it, believing everything they said. That it was wrong. Sometimes I wished it was that easy, like I could just turn it off and everything would be ok again.” Hyunwoo confessed. He had tried so hard to lock it away, as if he could simply shove it into a box and pretend. The words had been eating at his soul, as if to admit his fears made everything real. 

“But,” Hyunwoo said after a moment, “But even through all of that I still had you.” The words were almost tender in their admission. Countless nights had been spent reading the words of the boy in front of him. “My family never talked about anything like that before. Being gay I mean. I never realized how much I needed to see someone like me. It felt like I’ve gone my entire life having to justify just existing, like I was closed off from everyone else because no one ever understood.” The silence settled over them again, and Hyunwoo couldn’t help but wonder when it became “them” and not “him”. Maybe, he thought, maybe because he only had the other boy for so long. Hyunwoo had him in words, in photos, in tears and starlight and deep, shared grief. The only person in the world who understood him for so long. “But I realized it wouldn’t go away. Hiding such a big part of myself just meant I started to hurt myself. To hate myself. I felt guilty for something that should have never been a problem.” The silence lingered between them.

“I’m going to college now, I’m in my sophomore year” The words were sudden, but at this point Hyunwoo had stopped censoring himself. “I’m studying law now. That was a surprise,” Hyunwoo’s father had been happy, saying it was better than chasing teenage dreams of being on stage. “I read up on your case, all the articles. I remember how scared I was, because what if that happened to me? And then, and then I stopped being scared.” The conviction in his voice was noticeable even to his own ears. “I just remember being angry. You were this kind, wonderful person. You had a future, a life with someone you cared about.” His fists tightened and Hyunwoo smacked the ground in frustration. “No one helped you. Not your school, not the police, all because they decided that some, some faggot wasn’t worth their time,” Hyunwoo spat out. “It’s not fair! You-you deserve peace. You deserve to be remembered; you were a person. You were scared and begging for help and no one-no one helped you” His voice trailed off until there was nothing but a wisp of sound. Countless articles had popped up in his search for answers, and the disgust that had unraveled in his gut at what had been done would never go away.

But that wasn’t why he was here. Anger had fueled much of his youth, but Hyunwoo had learned to channel it into action. Here, before the man who saved him, there was no place for anger. This gravestone was more than a marker of a tragedy, there was a whole person behind it. “It took me so long to let it go, to learn that I didn’t have to put up with it anymore.” Confidence wasn’t the word he was looking for, but it was close enough. “When I moved away, I was always waiting for it. The judgement. The looks. It never occurred to me how wrong my family was, that living with all the anxiety and fear wasn’t normal.” A new normal, that’s what Changkyun called it. Relearning how to trust people had felt like such a huge task, but it was not effort wasted. Hyunwoo had come out better for it. “I didn’t want anyone else to feel that way, like there was no one to go to. I never wanted anyone else to be in danger anymore.” While the police never came, Hyunwoo knows his fathers screaming had caught the attention of the neighbors. Part of him still feels bitter about it, and for the nth time he wonders why they never did anything. Was it too familiar? 

He continued to ramble to the headstone for the next few minutes. Mindless college adventures, parties, his first date. “I brought my friends home with me. I still haven’t told them; I haven’t told anyone really.” While he doubted Hoseok, Jooheon, or Changkyun would care it was more of a personal thing. He hadn’t felt ready yet, to make it real, to make it a part of his life. “And,” Hyunwoo hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should admit the next part. “I found the boy you kissed. Professor Chae teaches art now. His boyfriend is really nice,” It was true. Lee Minhyuk had been surprisingly kind when Hyunwoo had come knocking, bearing memory of his boyfriends’ deceased first love. Hyunwoo didn’t know how someone was supposed to react to that but, it had ended with more tears and less anger than he had anticipated. He still talked to them occasionally, and though he hadn’t said anything, he suspected Professor Chae knew Hyunwoo hadn’t given everything over. 

Hyunwoo let the silence linger. He felt lighter somehow, secure in a way he had never been before. Hyunwoo didn’t know how this would end, and he was still afraid. But that was ok. He was ready now. With a grunt Hyunwoo climbed to his feet. Dusting off the dirt from his jeans, he took another moment to gaze at the grave. Though cracked and worn, the bright scarlet flowers seemed brought a zeal of life to it. The vines seemed fresher and greener, and moonbeams hung heavy, bathing it in light. “Thank you Kihyun.” And just like that it was over. 

Turning, Hyunwoo ambled back to the cemetery gate, feeling the leaves crunch beneath his feet. Tugging his phone out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen. Over ten calls and messages. His friends must be worried. Hyunwoo placed the phone over his ear, hearing the ringing on the other side. “Hey Hoseok. I know, I know. I’m sorry for worrying you guys, I should have told you I was leaving,” For a few seconds Hoseok’s voice blathered into his ear before Hyunwoo spoke again. “Are the others there? Good. I’m on my way home.”   
“There’s something I need to tell you.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“  
Young Boy Killed in Hate Crime- Law Enforcement to Blame?  
Published December 13, 1988  
Tensions continue to rise over the recent death of Yoo Kihyun, 18-year old student at Changwon Public High School. The boy was found buried in the snow the morning of December 1st, with the coroner ruling asphyxiation as the cause of death. Sources claim that Police have made multiple stops to the Yoo family household over several years due to allegations of abuse and three noted instances of domestic disputes. It is believed however, that there was a larger issue within the family, as the teenage victim was suspected to be gay, and that this may have been the source of several arguments. Yesterday Yoo Sewoon and Yoo Minji, the parents of the victim, were taken into police custody as suspects, and are undergoing questioning about their sons’ whereabouts the night before his body was found. “You always heard yelling from their house,” Claims neighbor Park Ji-hoon, “Where were you? Who were you with? Were you with that boy again? Sewoon was always yelling at his kid. It felt like it at least.” 

Public outrage over the investigation has reached a tipping point, as many feel the police were of no aid to the teenage musician. The last documented visit to the Yoo household was November 28th, a mere three days before the teenager’s body was found. A source within the department claims that many officers laughed off the boys’ concerns during their visit to the household. “When they came back to the precinct they were laughing. Calling him names. It’s not that uncommon to see, he’s not the first guy they made jokes about.” Yoo Sewoon has gone on record stating he believed his son had intentions to run away and that is what started the argument the evening of the 28th. According to Police Chief Bang Sunghoon, the police unit spent an extensive amount of time at the house litigating the argument, and that the well-being of all victims was their priority. Conflicting details from the police report do not support this, as the report states the police were at the house for less than thirty minutes and that Kihyun was safe when they left. Witnesses claim differently however, as many within the family’s neighborhood claim the fighting went on until well past midnight...


End file.
